Ducking the Question, As Usual
by Mara Greengrass
Summary: Bernard tries to cheer Tim up with a trip to the park.


"Ducking the Question, As Usual"  
  
Bernard sat on the bench next to Tim trying to study him without being observed. Something was obviously bothering him, he'd been incredibly lethargic and not nearly as mysterious as usual, available at a moment's notice to hang out. Most unusual.  
  
Strewing a handful of bread into the lake, Bernard tried to come up with yet another way to find out what was wrong. Every attempt so far had been sidestepped, evaded, turned into something else...Tim was damn good at that, which made Bernard even more curious.  
  
"So, uh, this isn't exactly your normal hangout," Tim said. "Why are we here?"  
  
"I thought you could use a change of scenery. You look awfully peaked, you know."  
  
"So you've said."  
  
"And it is my bounden duty to cheer you up."  
  
"With ducks?" Tim smiled slightly.  
  
Bernard nodded. "It is a well-known fact that no human being can look at a duck and be upset."  
  
"Really."  
  
"Penguins, too."  
  
Tim actually chuckled, holding out his hand for some bread. He threw it with a little greater force than was exactly necessary and Bernard watched the ducks, well, duck. When he looked at Tim, he saw the other boy blushing.  
  
They watched the ducks splashing around for bread as the sun crept slowly overhead and occasional bikes swooshed by on the path behind them.  
  
Tim shifted on the bench, suddenly appearing uneasy and a moment later, Bernard heard footsteps.  
  
"Tim!" a voice called.  
  
Bernard turned around to lean on the back of the bench, but Tim just stiffened. Eyes widening, Bernard watched the approaching hunk with sincere appreciation. Where oh where had Tim been hiding this one, with his dark hair, square jaw, and corded muscles that looked eminently lickable?  
  
The hunk barely even noticed him, so focused was he on Tim, who still hadn't turned around. "Conner," Tim said, his voice holding an emotion Bernard couldn't quite pinpoint.  
  
Conner stepped around the bench. "There you are. I've been looking for you."  
  
"Have you." Tim crossed his arms. He seemed...different.  
  
"We haven't seen you..." Now Conner shot a look at Bernard. "...around the old neighborhood."  
  
"There's a reason for that." Tim seemed older, that was it.  
  
"I know, but we miss you." Conner stuck his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, making his plain black t-shirt stretch even further across his chest. "_I_ miss you."  
  
Tim sighed and Bernard felt a twinge of jealousy. There was obviously history here, things he'd never be a part of, things Tim would refuse to explain. Oh Bernard, my boy, he thought, I told you not to fall for this one. He's going to break your heart just as he's obviously broken Conner's.  
  
"Look, can we not do this now?" Tim asked.  
  
Pas devant les enfants, Bernard thought. Not in front of the children.  
  
"Then when?" Conner looked ready to follow him forever.  
  
"How about never?"  
  
"Not an option." Conner smiled and Bernard caught his breath. Okay, that proved Tim was straight, because no gay man could possibly resist that.  
  
"Con..." Tim shook his head. "How are the others?"  
  
"Bart's freaky as always, growing like a weed and eating five times his weight at every meal. Cassie and Diana are on the outs again, so Cass is cranky. Gar had a...ah, run-in with Kory's garden, so they're fighting. The big guy's mood is so foul, even Clark's been avoiding him. He misses you, too. Clark said so."  
  
"Fuck off, Con." Tim stared at the lake.  
  
"Never. You've helped me too many times. Now it's my turn." Conner rocked back on his heels.  
  
Bernard was sure he'd been forgotten, but Tim turned to look at him, expression rueful. "Everybody seems to want to help," he said.  
  
Shrugging, Bernard tried to look casual. "That's what friends are for."  
  
"That's what friends are for," Conner said, bestowing a blinding smile on Bernard.  
  
"I need to go home," Tim said, standing up. Conner grabbed his arm and Tim made an abrupt move before he stopped, every muscle tensed.  
  
The frozen tableau made Bernard's chest ache, even though he knew he was missing most of the undercurrents. But he'd never seen Tim exhibit so much emotion, and for that he found himself grateful to this Conner person.  
  
Although they weren't speaking aloud, there was obviously communication going on. Finally, Tim broke the silence. "Let go."  
  
"Or what?"  
  
More silent communication as Tim's bicep flexed in Conner's grip. "I'm not coming back. My dad says it's too dangerous."  
  
"You don't have to...you could..." Conner shot an agonized glance at Bernard.  
  
"Oh, don't stop on my account. I'm fascinated."  
  
Tim glared at both of them and Bernard caught his breath--this was definitely a side of Tim he'd never seen. "Con, I'm going home. You're going home. Tell everyone I'm fine."  
  
Conner looked at Bernard. "Is he fine?"  
  
"No, not at all. He's a basket case."  
  
"Bernard!"  
  
"It's true. You are." Bernard shrugged. "You need help, my dear boy."  
  
"There, you see?" Conner said in triumph.  
  
Shaking his head, Tim twisted his arm to break Conner's hold on him. "You're both crazy, that's what I see."  
  
Bernard sighed theatrically. "If Tim wants to wallow in misery, there's little we can do to convince him otherwise."  
  
Conner looked adorably confused and Tim rolled his eyes. "Lay off, Bernard. I'm going home."  
  
"Tim..." Conner began.  
  
"Oh, never mind him," Bernard said, taking Conner's arm and leading him away. "Why don't you and I get some coffee and you can tell me all about...the old neighborhood?"  
  
"Bernard." Tim stood in front of them and he hadn't even seen him move.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I said, lay off."  
  
"Well then," he said with a smile, "why don't you go have coffee with Conner?"   
  
Tim closed his eyes. "Fine." He turned and walked away without waiting to see if Conner followed.  
  
Conner grinned as if the sight was familiar. "Thank you," he said to Bernard.  
  
"I'm never going to understand him, am I?"  
  
"No, probably not. If it helps, I don't understand him either." Conner smiled. "Thank you. He'll be okay, I promise."  
  
Bernard nodded and watched him jog up until he walked next to Tim. He stood there until they'd disappeared behind the trees, then sat back down on the bench.  
  
"Well," he said to the ducks, "it's just you and me. I don't suppose you know any good gossip, do you?"  
  
--end-- 


End file.
